Lights, camera, action?
by Swamp-Eyes
Summary: [AU] Tifa Lockhart is an emerging film star whose life is a total mess. She has to cope with her strict manager Tseng, loads of annoying fans and intrusive paparazzi - and now her insufferable rival Sephiroth, who will be her co-star in the new vampire movie about to begin filming. [SephTifa]
1. Insufferable managers & very bad news

**.**

 **lights,  
** **camera,**

 **..action?**

 **.**

* * *

 **[01]**  
 **June, 4th**  
 **Insufferable managers & very bad news**

 _What kind of paradise am I looking for?  
I've got everything I want and still I want more_

 _(Ani diFranco)_

* * *

Tifa Lockhart thought she was going to faint as she stepped out of her mansion, heading towards the luxury car waiting for her in the park.

She had just suffered through a two-hour long workout session. Every single muscle — even the ones she didn't know existed — screamed in pain. Under the shower her head had started spinning. She could still hear her personal trainer Zangan's voice echoing in her ears. _NO! Not like that...raise that arm. More...I said_ more _! Pull that... Seriously, Tifa, please, don't even think about that...grab that weight...God, aren't you a pathetic amount of flabby flesh...pick those up..._ concentrate _, for Lord's sake... I told you the leg has to stay_ this _way, not that way...Leg..._ More _!_

Okay, so maybe the four-day-long holiday spent drinking and sunbathing and more drinking in Costa del Sol had not helped her shape.

 _But, God, I just needed a rest, didn't I?_

Tifa sighed heavily, while running a hand through her long, messy raven hair, which was still damp from the shower. As soon as she approached the car, the door was opened by the person inside. Tseng Baum, her manager.

It took her less than a fraction of second to acknowledge the fact that he was angry as their gazes locked while she collapsed in the backseat beside him.

 _Tseng angry – wow, big news._

"Hi Tseng!" Tifa tried to ignore his severe expression and flashed him the best of her smiles. "Sorry if I'm late! Please just forgive me, today's workout was really nasty. Hope we're not late for the interview!"

Tseng just put a hand on his forehead, as if trying to calm himself. His jet black hair, unlike Tifa's, was perfectly straight and brushed backwards. He was wearing a full blue suit, complete with tie and jacket, even though it was summer. Tifa could barely suffer the view, she was sweating in her white tank top despite the air conditioning.

At his slight gesture, the driver started the engine, and the car drove away, hitting the sunset bathed streets of Midgar.

"No, you're not sorry, no, I'm not forgiving you, and yes, we're late for the interview," he spat to her as soon as he managed to calm down. "But we're not discussing it right now, Tifa. There are two important things I have to tell you before we get to the interview."

He hadn't called her 'Teef' as he usually did. That meant he really _was_ angry.

As soon as Tifa started to concentrate on what possible reason he could have for being so mad at her — apart from her being ten minutes late for an interview, which she didn't consider a sufficient reason —Tseng threw a gossip magazine on her lap.

There was no need to actually open it. The answer was right there on the cover.

 _Tifa Lockhart's hot summer! !_ it read in bold red font. And yes, there really were two exclamation marks. In one corner was a blurry night shot taken in Costa del Sol beach, portraying a trio of indiscernible figures.

"Seriously, Tseng?" she immediately raised her voice, trying to sound accusing and offended at the same time. "You're going to mess with me because of some crap written by paparazzi?! That's ridiculous. You know better than me that these magazines are pure waste."

She hated paparazzi. She hated them with a passion.

"I just want to know..." Tseng started again as he began nervously browsing the pages of the gossip magazine without even removing it from her lap first. "What the hell were you possibly thinking at _this_ rightmoment?"

He pointed his long thin finger on a particular shot.  
Tifa looked at it.

 _Oh, crap._

Yes, it was blurry. Yes, it must have been taken with amateur photography equipment. Yes, it was crystal clear that Reno Sinclair was hoisting her on his shoulder in one shot, and throwing her into the sea in the next one.

Tifa raised her crimson eyes, meeting Tseng's pitch black ones.

"Look, I know what you're going to ask me. This is nothing. I'm not hooking up with Reno, I swear." To be completely honest, she had already done that. But that had been just a kiss, three years ago. "You recommended me to stay away from gossip. And I did."

Tseng let out a nervous laugh.

" _This_ is what you call staying away from gossip?" He pointed at the photo again. "Skinny dipping alone with a flirt like Reno Sinclair in Costa del Sol? Amazing job, Tifa, really."

"We were not skinny dipping!" she replied hotly. "Actually, I was in my underwear."

Tseng sank his face in his hands again.

"Well, I suppose this makes it all better," he observed with a sarcastic snort.

"Look, Tseng..." She was desperately in need of something to say to make the whole thing appear what it really was — a funny night between friends. "There are other celebrities being paparazzed while making out with a different guy every week, being arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol or drugs possession – yeah, maybe I guess I just drank a bit too much." The very moment after she said it, Tifa realized from Tseng's expression that her choice of words had not been exactly proper. "We were not even alone! There was Rude with us! See, here, this is him!" she hastily added.

She was pointing at an indefinite black shadow in the corner of the photo, at least ten metres from them.

Tseng narrowed his eastern cut eyes, lowering his head on the magazine.

"Is that really Rude?" he asked her skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"I swear by all the Gods," Tifa proclaimed.

By the way, that was the truth.

"You know what." Tseng relaxed back in his seat, giving up on trying to focus on the photo. He checked the time, and looked outside the car window. "I'm too tired for this. And since time is running out, I'll move on tothe second topic."

"That seems like a great idea," Tifa agreed.

She was starting to suffer the heat. Tugging at her tank top neckline, she retrieved an energy drink from the car minibar. Thinking back about that night in Costa del Sol was not helping either. After drinking a few gulps directly from the bottle, Tifa started fanning herself with the gossip magazine while looking at Tseng expectantly.

"This is supposed to be a good news — a very good one, one worth cheering with champagne — if I was just feeling in the mood to do that, which I'm not." was Tseng's introduction.

"I am afraid you will never be in the mood to cheer with champagne, Tseng," Tifa cut in.

He glared at her.

"Anyway, I was saying..." he continued, "despite the fact that you are already twenty-two years old, that you are so often victim to the lowest kind of gossip, that you go skinny dip—"

"I said I was not—" Tifa tried to interrupt him but he hushed her with a brisk gesture.

"-skinny dipping with hopeless womanizer boy band members, that you still have drunken nights, that—"

 _Geez. Is this list going on for much longer? He sounds like my grandmother._

Tifa sipped from the energy drink bottle again, just to pass the time, distractively looking outside the car window. She would have even opened the gossip magazine if Tseng had not been so mad already.

"-that you're not in your best shape, that you rarely get along well with your co-stars, that you punched that paparazzo in his face last month — despite all this, it seems that someone still wants you to be the main female character in his upcoming movie."

When he finally reached the point, Tifa's expression lit up in attention.

"Really? A new movie?" she exclaimed. "This is great! What kind of movie is it?"

"Actually, there are still not many details revealed about that. All I can tell you is that the film is called LOVELESS, and it will be directed by Hojo."

Hojo. She had heard that name already, of course. He was one of the most famous directors in the horror scene, known to be a perfectionist. He was like a living legend.

 _Now this is surprising._

"Seriously, Hojo?" Tifa expressed her puzzlement to Tseng. "I would have never thought I could be an actress suitable for Hojo."

"Actually, seems like this time he's thinking more about a blockbuster – said he wanted to reach the masses with his arts for once. So he was in search of young known actors, loved by loads of fans. That, as stunning as it may sound, is definitely your case."

"So what's the draft? At least that you surely know," Tifa insisted. "What's my role supposed to be?"

"You will be a vampire hunter."

Tifa's crimson eyes widened in bewilderment. She made a pout, pondering the situation.

"You don't seem that enthusiastic anymore." Tseng immediately read her mind.

Her manager had always had that ability, which was not that good for Tifa, because that meant she rarely managed to hide anything from him.

"Yeah," Tifa surrendered almost immediately into telling him the truth. "It's just that...you said I should go for more engaged, elite movies. And now — a _vampire hunter_? I just don't know, Tseng."

Tseng sighed, closing his eyes.

"I perfectly understand your scepticism, Tifa." He reached for his briefcase, opening it on his lap. "But for you to star in this movie I received an offer I could hardly refuse."

 _Money, money, money._

Tifa snorted.

It was all about money. Actually, she had a slight consciousness she was usually being paid very high to star in each movie, but in the end it was Tseng who had the most knowledge of that.

She put the energy drink bottle back to her lips, sipping at it while distractedly taking a glance at the sheet Tseng was producing.

Tifa saw the amount of Gils written there. Black on white. A stunningly large amount.

She wasn't the expert, but _that_ amount almost made her choke on the energy drink.

* * *

Sephiroth sat on the bench press, currently lifting 250 pounds. This did not require a great concentration or effort, even if he had to admit that, being at the tenth series, he was starting to feel a bit tired.

Nonetheless, he could see from the corner of his eye his manager Elena Lewis standing in her perfect navy blue suit in the middle of the gym.

She was completely still, her chin length straight hair perfect as always, and Sephiroth knew she was probably counting his lifts, waiting for him to end the series to cut in with God knows which one of her useless ramblings.

When Sephiroth actually ended the tenth series, he put the weight's bar back on the rack, and sat up on the bench. He was shirtless, he was sweating, and he could feel the straight locks of his silver hair plastered on his forehead.

Just for the sake of unnerving her, Sephiroth started to walk away, aiming at the gym's door, completely ignoring Elena.

She cleared her throat after he'd moved just a few paces.

"Yes, Elena?" Sephiroth turned to her, his thin eyebrows low on his emerald eyes, pretending total cluelessness. "You need something? To be honest, I thought you were just here to admire my perfect body."

Elena closed her eyes, a nervous smirk appearing on her shut lips.

Sephiroth knew instantly that she was fighting hard not to yell at him.

"You're so fun, Seph," she snapped, moving a pace toward him. "Actually, you're so much fun I find it totally unbelievable that no one has engaged you in a comedy or a parody movie, and that they insist on having you play the cold war hero, the heartless mercenary, or the freaking psycho."

"That is indeed remarkable, I keep wondering about that, too." Sephiroth reached for a white towel, needing to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"That said, I would like you to sit down for five minutes. There is something I have to tell you," Elena gestured at the nearest wooden bench.

Sephiroth totally despised every single one of her speeches that started like that.

 _Fuck's sake. Do not make this be another interview with some moronic reporter. Or even worse, gossip lecture._

"Can't this wait ten minutes?" He tried to escape with the cheapest of the excuses. "I'm soaked. I need a shower."

"No, Sephiroth, this can't wait," Elena insisted, gesturing at the bench again. "Because I have another appointment in five minutes."

"That is definitely good news," Sephiroth surrendered, and sat on the bench while throwing the towel on his well defined shoulders. "At least it means that this is really going to be short. Come on, I'm all yours." He smirked and opened his arms as if he was expecting her to jump on his lap like a cat.

Elena as always was trying her best not to lose her temper. Moreover, between an annoyed snort and the other, Sephiroth saw clearly her eyes trailing down his perfect abdomen.

"I think it would be proper if you just put on some clothes while we're talking about work. That would be far more professional and respectable," she scolded, diverting her eyes to a casual gym gear.

"And why's that?" Sephiroth let out a sarcastic grin again. "The risk for you to jump on me is too high if I'm shirtless?"

 _I love messing around with her. I just love it._

"You know what Sephiroth..." Elena threw both her hands up in the air. "Naked will just do it — as long as we end this damn talk."

"I'm all ears." He put his hand behind his head, and leaned back on the wall beside the bench. "If I happen to fall asleep, just poke me. Delicately, if possible."

"I'll get this as straight as possible." Elena this time deliberately ignored his provocation, and reached for her briefcase. "We have a new movie on the go. I said we're totally in." She handed him a sheet. "Here is a minimal draft of the movie concept. It sounds cool...I guess."

Sephiroth took the sheet in his hand, his eyebrow already quirking with suspicion. He had no intention of going through the whole sheet, so he just let his eye wander around it, focusing on random words.

Vampires. Blood. Haunted Mansion. Blood. Vampire hunters. Blood. Zombies. Blood. Vampire hunters teams.

Seriously, _teams_?

"Please, Elena." Sephiroth dropped the hand with the sheet in it, while pressing the other one on his still damp forehead. This time _he_ was the one fighting to maintain self control. "Please. Just tell me you have not signed in for this shit."

"Actually, I did." Elena did not make him wait for the answer.

Sephiroth gave her back the worst of his killer looks.

"You're sacked," was his immediate upcoming reaction. "I don't know for how much you sold my body for to star in this trash, but I can assure you, my dear Lena, that I'm rich enough already. No money is worth this crap."

"Turn the sheet over."

Sephiroth bit his lip, looking at her without understanding what was going on at first.

Then he obeyed, and turned the damn sheet of doom.

He saw the amount, held his breath for a second, and then handed the sheet back to Elena.

"We're totally in" was his conclusion.

* * *

Tseng concentrated on Tifa's perfect legs sticking out her black miniskirt as she was exiting the luxury car. They had managed to reach the building on time for the interview.

Maybe in the end he had been too harsh on her when saying she was not in the best of her shape.

"So, see you later, Teef." He waved at her from the car window after she closed the door behind her. "I'll be back here to pick you up in a few hours as scheduled. Good luck with the interview."

"Bye, Tseng!" She waved back cheerfully at him.

Then, in the very moment he was gesturing to the driver to leave, Tifa turned back to him.

"Wait a minute." She moved a pace back towards the car "I forgot to ask you something!"

 _Crap_.

He had sincerely, foolishly hoped he could avoid the question — at least for a little bit longer.

"Maybe we should save the questions for later. You're almost late for the interview, Teef," Tseng tried to convince her.

 _Maybe later I'll have come up with a suitable answer._

"It's just so very quick." There were already traces of suspicion in her crimson eyes. "Who's going to be my co-star? I mean, the male lead?"

Tseng clenched his teeth, and just went for it. He could see no possible way to sugar the pill, anyway.

"It's going to be Sephiroth."

For a fraction of second, Tseng enjoyed her totally blank expression. Then, before she could come up with a reply, he touched the driver's shoulder.

"Go. Now."

He pressed a button, closing the car window.

* * *

When Elena felt her mobile vibrating in her pocket, she extracted it, and saw the usual snapshot of Sephiroth's contact blinking on it. She immediately knew what was coming.

She was currently raising her hand, desperately searching for a taxi in the messy and noisy Midgar rush-hour.

Being a professional manager, and wishing to fulfill all of her duties, she picked up the call, biting her lip.

"Seph? What's up?" she was practically yelling to overcome a near honk. "I'm kind of busy here. Almost late to my appointment." She kept it vague.

 _Maybe he wants to ask me something else. Just in case._

"Actually this is supposed to be very quick." There was utter silence on the other end of the line, apart from his sharp and suspicious voice. "You forgot to mention who will be my co-star. Which is very curious, Elena, because usually there is _nothing_ you forget to mention."

 _Shit_.

Elena cursed under her breath. Before pronouncing the sentence, the only positive thing she managed to think about was that after all, maybe, having to say it on the phone it was less problematic than vis-a-vis.

 _Just maybe._

"The co-star is Tifa Lockhart."

Silence.  
Dead silence.

Elena instantly seized the opportunity.

"Look, Seph...I have another incoming call. It's very urgent, I have to take it. Talk to you later, okay?" She rushed her words.

Then she pressed the red button, ending the call.  
Then she turned off her mobile.

She wasn't planning to turn it on again for many, _many_ hours.

* * *

 **A.N.**

 **1**. On the verge of turning 30, you go like, 'OMG WTF am I doing with my life?'. You had sworn five years ago that you were done with fanfictions and with Tifa/Sephiroth, turns out maybe you weren't - and you find yourself writing the silliest one ever. Many of you don't remember me at all, some of you may remember me for 'Subservience'. Anyway here I am, with a new Tifa/Sephiroth, completely different from Subservience, but this idea has been bothering for forever. So please, if you've read and you're interested in seeing other chapters, let me know your feedback because I'm extremely unsure about this and I might even delete it. A big TNX to all my old and new readers, anyway, regardless how this will go :) **2**. A big TNX to Savannah Singleton for having edited this story even if she's not into FFVII :) Go visit her profile! 3. Cover image is not mine is Arriku's! Maybe I'll do one of my own one day .. just maybe.

 **Have a great day you all!  
** **Swamp-Eyes**


	2. Pizza delivery services & private clubs

**[02]**  
 **June, 8th.**  
 **Pizza delivery services & private clubs**

* * *

 _Polar opposites don't push away_ _  
_ _It's the same on the weekends as the rest of the days_ _  
_ _And I know I should go but I'll probably stay_ _  
_ _And that's all you can do about some things_ _  
_ _I'm trying to drink away the part of the day_ _  
_ _That I cannot sleep away_

 _(Modest Mouse)_

* * *

Sephiroth heard the metallic clink of the keys in the lock of his door as he relaxed, sprawled out on his leather sofa, lazily browsing the pages of a sport cars magazine.

Elena Lewis was the only other person in all of Midgar who owned a copy of the keys to his penthouse, so her stepping through the threshold in her formal navy blue suit, without even saying 'hi' or 'mind if I come in', was not unusual.

"You know, they invented intercoms. And even before that, there was always the knocking," he complained, the first of the two to speak. "What if I was with a girl? What if I was naked?"

"Then you'd be a total moron," Elena replied, still not bothering to look at him. "Considering you called me and asked me to bring you pizza just half an hour ago."

He watched as she dropped it on the glass table in the living room, her disdain apparent by the force in which she did so, and her stressed expression. Outside the huge window behind her, the whole neon city of Midgar glowed, the June full moon high in the polluted, greenish black night sky.

"While we're at it—" Elena resumed, finally turning to him now that her hands were free. "Keep well in mind that this is the first and last time you use me as a pizza delivery service. I _do_ work for you, but _this"_ she pointed to the pizza box "is _not_ part of the contract. I'll make sure you have some proper restaurant flyers around, for the next time you're starving."

Sephiroth closed the magazine on his lap, trying to suppress his smirk.

"You know I hate delivered pizza, it tastes like chewing-gum. I just happened to want pizza from the shop around the corner. Unfortunately, they don't do delivery."

"Neither do I."

"Come on, Lena. There is so much you have to be forgiven for, a little favour might speed up the process. By the way, you know that I hate being assaulted by fans. And since it's Saturday night, I imagine the pizza shop must have been very crowded." Sephiroth got up and walked to the glass table.

He could tell she knew what he alluded to — the whole Lockhart thing — by the way she offered no reply, simply bit her at her lower lip instead.

He recalled with a pinch of resentment her switching off her phone for the subsequent 35 hours after dropping that bomb.

He'd had to chase her to her apartment to get her to talk about it. Cursing, screaming, even glass-breaking had ensued, but after a while he had surrendered, accepted, overwhelmed by the money involved. He was going to go through with the whole Hojo film thing. But for now, he wanted to avoid thinking about it as long as possible, and to do that, avoiding crazy fans with questions related to the damn movie was a necessity.

 _Crazy fans — exactly the kind of people crowding a pizza bistro on Saturday night._

Now that a few days had passed, his relationship with his manager Elena had almost returned to normal, except that he was enjoying playing a bit on her guilt, which included persuading her to act as a pizza delivery service.

"As a matter of fact, it _was_ crowded. I had to wait at least twenty minutes," she replied.

"But you managed to survive nonetheless." Sephiroth continued to tease her while adjusting himself in one of the black polished chairs surrounding the table. "While you were at it, you could have got yourself a pizza too, and have dinner here with me."

"As unbelievable as it may sound to you, I have better things to do than eating take away pizza in the penthouse of a spoiled film star who I have the misfortune to see so many hours a day already," Elena chuckled.

"You're talking nonsense now. There are girls who would give their right arm to be in your shoes."

"Well, in that case, I pity their naivety," Elena replied cooly.

Sephiroth opened the pizza box and examined the food. Then he turned back to her, annoyed.

"I thought I made it clear that I wanted black olives on it, not green."

"Seriously, Seph?" Elena almost burst out laughing. "Do you really think that there is a girl who would like to be here listening to you complaining about which kind of olives is lying on your pizza?"

Before he could reply with another cutting remark, Sephiroth got distracted by his mobile vibrating on the glass table. He took it in one hand while eating the first slice of pizza with the other, and read the incoming text.

 _*hey man. party at the penthouse tonight too? see you in an hour?*_

It was from Zack. He ignored the text at first, remembering the total mess of his dear penthouse after the last Zack-improvised party. But another text followed soon after the first.

 _*met some hot girls while drinking a beer, i'll bring them with. they'll love your place. and you.*_

He realized he needed to stop Zack before the man rang his doorbell, complete with a drunk girl puking in the elevator. It would not be the first time.

 _*nah.*_

He typed back.

"So tell me," he said, returning to Elena, and the pizza, "what are these better things you've got to do tonight? Staying at home alone because you have no social life and choking down ice cream while crying over a romantic movie?"

Elena shook her head slowly at his defiance.

"That'd be an appealing plan, but I have to go to a charity gala. Representing you, of course."

Sephiroth widened his eyes.

"A charity gala? Dressed that way?" He seemed almost horrified.

Elena, a bit offended at this, caressed her suit.

"There's nothing wrong with my outfit. By the way, it's not a debutante ball. It's just a charity event with an auction."

"And why am I not invited?"

"I did ask you if you wanted to go, three months ago, when we received the invitation. But you turned it down saying that you hate this kind of formal social event." She sounded as if she had been waiting to reproach him since she arrived.

"That I do," Sephiroth admitted. Then he got distracted by another incoming message – Zack again.

 _*fuckssake you're so boring. meet you later at the Jazz Club then - if you move your ass from your sofa that is.*_

He didn't reply to this right away; he might actually consider the option.

"By the way, if you are feeling the sudden urge to come, you're still on time, I guess." Elena tried to persuade him, making her best effort to sound casual. "You know, being seen at a charity event would be good publicity. And for the record, you don't seem so busy for a Saturday night either."

Sephiroth knew she had a point, but he felt he didn't have the psychological strength to cope with an entire night spent acting formal, having to be nice to complete strangers. Given the mood he was in, a night out with Zack sounded far less demanding.

"I suppose I could come. But you would have to change your dress. I have no desire to be photographed with a workhaolic dressed like a man , even at a gala," was his brilliant move to get out of going.

And apparently it worked, because Elena started heading toward the door with a loud snort.

"I guess I'll go alone after all."

"Have fun dilapidating my fortune at the charity auction," Sephiroth recommended.

"Considering how rich you are, I was going for a five-zeroes amount, or something like that," Elena snapped while opening the door, a strange irony in her voice.

"Wow. I am such a good-hearted man, am I not?"

Elena closed the door behind her without further comment.

The thought occurred to Sephiroth that maybe she was not being _that_ sarcastic, after all.

* * *

 _The Heist_ was a private disco club, accessible by membership only. At least ninety percent of the club's members were show biz people,more or less as famous as Tifa, eliminating her fear of being assaulted by fans.

Not that she hated her fans, of course. She loved them, well aware that she would still be just a random, unknown Nibelheim-born girl without their support. But in the last days, after the news of her new movie reached the masses – although there had not been an official press about it yet – things were becoming a little more demanding.

Apparently, LOVELESS was inspired by a book written by a young female authoress, with a vast, squealing, vampire-lover's female fandom. Even if there was so doubt that Hojo would have his own personal, darker take on the work, the fans couldn't wait for it to come out.

 _So you will act with Sephiroth? Oh my God don't you think he's hot? Is it true that you hate each other? Is it true that you're dating Reno Sinclair?_ _Oh my God don't you think he's hot?_

Those were the most common questions she received. The list of others was long; the absurdities people came up with amazed her.

 _Is it true that the script requires you to drink real human blood? Is it true that Hojo is filming the movie because he's dating the LOVELESS book authoress even if she's half his age? Is it true that your cat Red XIII has had puppies and you sell them for ten thousand gils?_

Most of the time she just replied politely to them as Tseng dragged her to the waiting cars. Sometimes she denied the gossips with hearty laughs. Yet, when it came to denying she and Sephiroth hated each other, the laughs sort of froze on her lips.

That was _not_ something Tifa wanted to cope with on a Saturday night, which was why she had agreed to come to _The Heist_. Without the fans, she was able to relax with her _second_ cocktail, sitting in a stylish black sofa with animaliér cushions on the terrace of the club. Dressed in a classic black minidress and high-heeled red sandals, she was doing her best to enjoy the refreshing summer night breeze and the soft lounge jazz music before dancing began later in the evening, though it was obvious that she wasn't.

"Gosh, Tifa. What's the problem with you tonight?"

"Let her finish the second cocktail. Then we'll order her the third, and she'll feel better."

"Yeah but — just look at her face! It's Saturday night, and we're in a cool, exclusive club for heaven's sake!"

The two girls sitting at her same table and arguing about her mood were Marlene Wallace and Jessie Cooper, who Tifa might describe as her best friends. They had been among the first people she had crossed paths with when she first came to Midgar to study at the Drama Academy years ago. All new to the scene, and about the same age, they had bonded rather quickly.

Marlene Wallace, a few years younger than Tifa, in her late teens, was the only daughter of the famous agent and manager Barret Wallace. Barret had worked for many eminent stars, and had a reputation of rude and intimidating manners. Currently, he was the manager of the ascending boy band _Avalanche,_ which was exactly Reno's band. Marlene, having been subjected to the VIP world through her father, had eventually decided to become part of that world herself. A natural beauty, she entered the modeling scene, though against her over-protective father's wishes, something often discussed, and argued over during their girl-only nights.

Jessie Cooper was more of an unusual girl. A year older than Tifa, she took part in glamorous world with them, but with a sort of scorn and detachment, far from overwhelmed by it all. The cute, chestnut-haired girl enjoyed acting, and so that's what she did in her comical leading role as a member of a deranged family in one of the most famous sit-coms on TV. Each time she worked with teen idols, instead of swooning over them, she mocked and made fun of them to Marlene and Tifa.

"Sorry, girls." Tifa took a sip of her cocktail. "It's just that this whole movie thing is getting to me a bit."

"Oh – and by the 'whole movie thing', I gather you're talking about the fact that you'll be working with Sephiroth." Marlene said.

That annoyed Tifa a little, but she knew Marlene meant no harm, she was just gossip-addicted.

Jessie, on the other hand, glared at Marlene. "I thought we agreed we were not supposed to bring up the subject," she snapped.

"I know." Marlene sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's just that—"

"It's okay, Jess." Tifa cut in. "By the way, she's right. That is pretty much the main reason my mood's ruined."

"Why would you care about working with Sephiroth when you've already got Reno, anyway." Marlene wondered.

"Wow – isn't that a great fortune!" Jessie spat sarcastically, repressing a chuckle. Clearly she didn't share Marlene's opinion of Reno Sinclair.

"I am not hooking up with Reno." As soon as Tifa said this, it almost feel like déjà-vu, like she had already said such a thing before. _Probably because you have. To loads of people_. "We're just friends, so sometimes we hang out together. That's it. Marlene, are you going to believe _me_ , or a stupid gossip magazine?"

" _You_ , of course!" Marlene replied immediately, sounding hurt. "I just think you would be so cute together."

At this, Tifa closed her eyes and finished the remnants of her cocktail in a few gulps. Jessie nearly burst out laughing.

"You're almost sounding like a fangirl, Marlene." She looked at the younger girl sceptically. "If you like red guitar boy so much why don't you give it a try yourself?"

A shy smile appeared on Marlene lips, but her hazel eyes seemed terribly sly under her ash-colored fringe.

"I met Reno more than once. He actually tried to get my phone number, but Daddy threatened to throw him out of the band if he ever _came_ near me," she explained.

Tifa raised her eyebrow. Hearing the word _daddy_ associated to the dark human mountain known as Barret always came with a shock.

"Your father deserve a statue, Sinclair boy is scum. You can do so much better, Marlene." Jessie said. "I don't think a sane man would ever dare to contradict your father, anyway."

"Excuse me, I'm very sorry to interrupt. You're Tifa Lockhart, aren't you?"

All three girls looked up, forgetting their chat for a moment. A beautiful, raven-haired girl had approached their table, and was smiling politely at Tifa. She was taller than Tifa, her hair straighter and shiny. For just a second the stranger glanced at Marlene, and they exchanged a nod. Not very surprisingly looking at her body, Tifa supposed they had met on the catwalk.

"Yeah, it's me," Tifa answered, trying to reciprocate her smile. She felt a bit unsure about how to act. She was mostly used to men approaching her, especially at 'The Heist'. And this girl – woman, almost - surely didn't look like one of the possible LOVELESS squealing fans either.

"I knew it!" she sighed in relief. "I promise I won't take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask – Tseng is your manager, right? Isn't he here tonight?"

Tifa's smile vanished. She stared at the stunning girl, almost gaping, not knowing how to reply.

 _Now_ this _is something new._

"Yes, he's been my manager for a few years now," she started to explain, her voice tentative. "But tonight he's not here. It's just me and my friends as you can see."

The raven-haired girl made no effort to hide her disappointment — a pout appeared on her perfect cherry-painted lips.

"Oh. I see."

"Why, do you know him?" Tifa asked, sounding a bit more aggressive than she had intended.

"Wow, this is embarrassing." The girl laughed, shaking her head, and running a hand through her silky hair, "No, I don't know him personally. I am sort of a fan, if you want to put it that way. I am from Wutai just as he is. I've been following his bio in the magazines for forever – you know, I just wanted to meet him."

Tifa was still wordless.

 _Is this really happening, is this what I think it is?_

"Tifa, don't you bring along some Tseng autographs to deliver to his fans, if necessary?" Jessie came to her rescue, and her words made Marlene giggle.

The raven-haired woman blushed.

"Thanks, but I'm no collector." Though it was said as just a joke, she refused the offer with a smile. She produced a business card from her jeweled purse instead, and handed it to Tifa. "But you could give this to him, I'd appreciate that very much. Sorry for the bother, and have a nice evening."

Tifa's eyes trailed on her figure classily swinging away on her high heels. Marlene caught the moment and stole the business card from Tifa's apparently frozen fingers.

"Jun Liu," she read out loud. "She's a top model. Wow."

Tifa snapped the business card back from Marlene, to take a look herself.

"So Tseng has fans too, uh?" Jessie seemed to find the whole situation slightly entertaining. "And what a fan."

"Well, why would anyone be surprised?" Marlene asked. "He's hot."

"But usually _managers_ don't have fans. Plus, he's an insufferable stern workaholic." The very moment the words came out her lips, she realized how shallow they sounded. Yet she was not finding the whole episode as funny as her friends did.

"So what?" Marlene sounded exasperated. "Just because he's your manager doesn't mean he can't have a life. You sound a bit possessive sometimes, Teef."

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I agree with Marlene." said Jessie.

A satisfied grin appeared on Marlene's lips.

When Marlene and Jessie took sides together, that definitely meant Tifa was wrong.

They eventually changed the subject while ordering the third round of cocktails. Tifa found herself glancing at the business card every now and then, becoming aware of the fact that she had avoided to tell the Wutainese woman that Tseng was supposed to show up later to pick her up.

 _Did I avoid telling her on purpose, or did I just forget?_ The alcohol was not helping her get things straight.

At the end of the third cocktail, while Marlene and Jessie were distracted — the first checking out a guy, the second giving her a thumbs down about him – Tifa took the business card and threw it into the nearest trashcan.

* * *

 **Author'sNote**

 **1**. So after so many years you all still manage to make me feel happy to be posting here :) Consider this chapter as a huge THANK YOU to all the people that followed, favourited, read  & reviewed my little silly story, I would have dropped it otherwise. Please let me know if you still think the story's worth continuing, I need to know if there are still SephTi fan out there! **2**. Thanks to my wonderful beta Savannah Singleton for cutting out all the useless 'almost' of the chapter ;) LOL. And don't forget to check out her profile especially if you're a 'Blue Blood' fan! **3.** I'm in love with writing Tifa  & Seph & their worhaolic managers ^^ **4**. Will anyone help me cast Shera with a funny role? ;) I think I've settled everyone in my mind except from her, for now!

 **Have a nice day you all!**

 **S.**


	3. Lives gone wrong & horrible vases

**[03]**  
 **June, 9th.**  
 **Lives gone wrong & horrible vases**

* * *

 _I like the peace  
_ _In the backseat  
_ _I don't have to drive  
_ _I don't have to speak_

 _(Arcade Fire_ _)_

* * *

Sephiroth missed the moment when his life had gone wrong – there _must_ have been one though, given the fact that he was currently hanging out with boy band members.

 _With your best friend now being the lead singer of the most famous boy band on Gea, this is kind of hard to avoid._

Zack Fair and Reno Sinclair, stars of Avalanche, sat at his table, making pitiful spectacles of themselves. Drunk already when he arrived at the Jazz Club, they were now trying to order their umpteenth cocktail. A confused but flirty waitress was looking at them while they blurted out girly cocktails names – featuring the words _sex_ and _orgasm_. Probably they didn't even like them, they just wanted to mess with her.

Yet those two were apparently on the top five list of the most desired men of the planet.

Apart from the waitress, three other girls surrounded them - probably the same girls Zack mentioned in his text message. Two were clinging to Zack's arms, one to Reno's. Thousands of stupid fangirls would die to switch places with that trio.

 _Seriously, what the hell is wrong with the world?_

Sephiroth chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head and missing the peacefulness of his penthouse already. A very remote part of his brain considered for a moment that maybe even the Charity Gala with Elena would have been better than this.

 _Just maybe._

One of the three girls – the blonde one - was plainly looking at him. Not very surprisingly, she was the most beautiful one of the trio. He shot the girl an annoyed glance, trying to discourage her, but she had the guts not to lower her gaze.

 _Stupid woman._ But she was beautiful, wasn't she..? _Nah. Not in the mood._

"What about you? Can I get you a drink?"

Sephiroth tried to concentrate on the waitress's voice, but at the moment his attention was on the unpleasant view of Reno's girl cupping his face in her hands and kissing him on the lips.

"Aww, don't get jealous, Seph," Zack spotted his frown and jumped from his sofa to Sephiroth's, circling his shoulder with his arm and whispering into his ear, "The blonde one only has eyes for you."

"I am thrilled," Sephiroth rolled his eyes, trying to get rid of Zack's arm.

Zack chuckled, leaning his forehead on Sephiroth shoulder.

"What's the problem with you, Seph? I mean, she's hot."

The fact that Sephiroth had no interest in hooking up with random girls, as hot as they may be, always left Zack puzzled.

"Excuse me..?" the impatient waitress said.

 _Relax_. Sephiroth told himself, hiding his face behind his hands and trying to concentrate. _Remember Elena's conditions. No gossips. That means no girls, no hangovers, no brawls._

Usually he had no problem coping with the first two terms – girls were stupid, alcohol was nauseating. It was the latter one he was always on the verge of violating.

He was very fond of Zack, and quite used to his drunken harassments. They had been friends practically since teen-hood, despite being so different. As for that last year, Sephiroth knew that becoming part of that damn worldwide famous Avalanche, of all things, had not helped Zack to put his head straight.

Sephiroth had to admit he missed the time when it was only the two of them hanging around, without stupid redhead womanizer guitarist Reno Sinclair. He was not surprised that Zack and Reno got along so well, they had so much in common. Yet-

 _This is ridiculous. I almost sound jealous._

"You can get him a glass of water," Reno ordered in Sephiroth's place, suddenly breaking the kiss - it must not have been a very enticing one, if he had preferred mocking him than going on with it. "Precious Sephiroth can't waste his perfect body on alcohol."

Sephiroth took the blow with a careless smirk. Reno was not talking nonsense, for once – he _did_ despise alcohol. He just didn't believe he could survive the night without drinking any of it.

"So, water?" the waitress asked raising an eyebrow, a bit skeptical.

"Gin will be fine," Sephiroth surrendered.

 _Just one drink._

"On the rocks?" the waitress seemed a bit more content with that order.

"Yes, please."

"I'll have the same," Blondie intervened.

 _Don't tell me._

The waitress left quickly while the group on the Jazz Club's stage started playing a very famous song. The brunette Zack had left on the sofa stood up with a bright smile, dragging the blondie with her.

"I so love this song! Let's go dancing!"

After realizing her friends were leaving together, Reno's girl broke the kiss with regret to follow them onto the dance floor. Blondie shot Sephiroth one last sexy glance before disappearing among the crowd.

Without the girls, the table suddenly felt much more welcoming.

 _Thank God,_ finally _._ Sephiroth let out a sigh of relief, relaxing back on the sofa.

"You could at least pretend you're having fun, Seph. You're an actor, after all. Or so they say." Reno provoked him while leaning towards him, the loose tie he was wearing hovering over the numerous void glasses scattered on the coffee table.

"I'm having the gin, and then I'm out of here," Sephiroth replied curtly.

"Bringing Chelsea along, of course." Zack elbowed him lightly in the ribcage.

"Who's Chelsea?" Sephiroth didn't make the connection.

"Who's Chelsea?!" Reno mimicked him incredulously. He was still trying to put his red hair back in its place since the girl had messed it up. "Hello..? The blonde hottie on whom I've been hitting without the slightest sign of success all night long since she was too busy drooling on you..? Ringing any bell?"

"Oh, her," Sephiroth looked expectantly into the crowd, hoping to see his gin appear soon. "Not interested. You can have her."

Zack burst out laughing.

"You sound like you're talking about a collector's card, Seph. You don't have a heart, do you?"

"I do have a heart. Elena is currently representing me at a charity auction."

"I'm not sure that counts as proof." Reno shook his head, "Man, you can be so irritating, Seph."

"Guys, guys, guys." Zack dragged Reno beside him on the sofa, hugging him the same way he was doing with Sephiroth. "Just stop arguing, okay?"

Zack was always the one acting as peacemaker between him and Reno.

"It's not my fault if we do not share the same interests," Sephiroth continued on.

"That's because you have no interests at all." Reno spat back. "Apart from working out, admiring yourself in the mirror, and sitting on an imaginary throne with an imaginary crown on your head."

"Not quite right," Sephiroth corrected him. "Maybe that's because _you_ have no interest at all. Apart from ending up paparazzed and reported on the cover of the most trashy gossip magazines around."

"Guuys."

"How would you even know I get the covers?" Reno seemed a bit amused by this, "You don't seem to me the typical gossip magazine reader."

"Aaah. I see where this is going.." a knowing smile appeared on Zack's lips. "You're talking about his Costa del Sol cover with Tifa Lockhart, aren't you?"

Sephiroth's lips tightened. If all the rest had not been enough already, now he had to suffer hearing _that_ name too.

"I happened to stumble across that cover, yes." Sephiroth kept it vague.

"So what?" Reno leaned towards him, squashing Zack between the two of them "Now that you're bound to film that movie with her you've started reading magazines for the purpose of what, scientific research?"

"The fact that Lockhart was paparazzed with you just proves how low she is." A grimace appeared automatically on Sephiroth's lips when he pronounced her name.

Reno burst into a nervous chuckle while Zack tried to separate the two of them with an embarrassed smile.

"Please, both of you. Don't be assholes." Zack pat them both on their shoulders.

"He's not being an asshole, he's just being himself." Reno replied, in desperate need of Zack's approval. But his eyes were set on Sephiroth. "You know what, you don't even know her, you haven't talked to her in years, what the hell makes you think you can judge her?"

Now it was Sephiroth's turn to laugh – he dramatically placed a hand to his heart as if he'd been wounded.

"Are you defending her?" he asked Reno. "I'm moved really – Zack, do you happen to have an handkerchief? I think I'm about to cry."

Zack seemed torn – he didn't want to let Sephiroth get away with all his usual cockiness, yet he was fighting hard to suppress a smirk.

"And, just for the sake of being completely honest-" Reno's speech was not over yet, " _Nothing_ happened that night in Costa del Sol."

This disappointed Sephiroth a bit – suddenly a reason to despise Lockhart was gone. He still had plenty of them, though.

"Well, actually, Reno, you have to admit that you and Tifa get caught together often," Zack said tentatively.

"That's because we're friends!" Reno seemed exasperated. "Like you and me." He pointed at Zack.

"In that case, I sincerely hope I never stumble across a cover photo of the two of you skinny dipping together," Sephiroth remarked.

"So nothing has ever happened between you and Tifa? Never?" Zack asked Reno slyly. "Let's suppose I happen to take my chance with her - you wouldn't mind?"

Sephiroth had no idea if Zack was saying that just to mess with Reno, or if that was supposed to be a real question. Thing was, this was not the first time Zack mentioned the fact that he found Lockhart attractive, much to Sephiroth's bewilderment.

 _Once again, what the hell is wrong with the world?_

Reno cleared his throat and lowered his gaze.

"Never ever." He proclaimed solemnly. "You know what, you both can do the fuck you want with her – hit on her, despise her – I don't care. Bloody hell. I'm going to have a cig."

Sephiroth watched Reno carefully as he stumbled away from the sofa.

 _Never ever my ass._

He didn't know anything for sure about the past relationship between those two, but the redhead was such a terrible liar he couldn't possibly imagine how he managed to juggle more than one girl at once like he always did.

* * *

"And now, we shall proceed with the next item. We have this wonderful ancient broken vase, extracted last year from the Bone Village excavation," the auctioneer proclaimed in a cheerful voice, trying to rouse the audience.

On the spotlighted shelf in the center of the stage appeared a small, horrendous, dusty, cracked vase.

"The opening price is twenty two thousand gils."

Elena hid a yawn behind her hand. The cocktail hour before the actual auction had been excruciatingly long, and she had probably downed too many glasses of champagne.

Not to mention that for all the previous hour she had been distracted by the sight of a certain someone – so distracted she had not yet spent even half of the budget she had put aside for the night.

"Any advance on twenty two thousand?"

"Twenty-five thousand!" shouted someone from the first rows of the audience.

"Great! Twenty five thousand for the elegant lady with the red hat." The auctioneer walked around the vase, his smile brighter. "We have a great vase here, dear bidders. Come on, don't be shy!"

Elena's eyes, like in almost every previous round, didn't fix on the awful vase – they were drawn to the distracting certain someone. To _him_.

She had seen him other times before. She had no doubt the man was none other than Tseng Baum - Tifa Lockhart's manager.

He had appeared right after the cocktail, and now he was sitting in the last rows of the audience: tall, thin, shiny jet black hair, eastern features, expensive elegant suit. He had spent his entire time at the Gala talking on his mobile, texting, hardly touching any drink or talking to anyone. He had won just one auction round – an ancient Wutainese tea set, nothing exceptional, Elena supposed he had gone for that just because of his origins – but overall he didn't seem to care. He probably was there to represent Lockhart, just like she was doing for Sephiroth.

Whereas she often felt panicking and unsure, Tseng was the embodiment of aloofness and professionalism.

"Any advance on twenty five thousands?"

"Twenty seven!" Elena raised her hand without really knowing what she was doing.

That vase really was horrible. But she had all that money to spend, and she had no idea how many other rounds were left before the end.

"Twenty seven for the blond businesswoman with a bob!" the auctioneer declared enthusiastically, "Any advance on twenty seven thousand? This is a very rare find, audience, I'm warning you."

"Thirty."

 _His_ voice.

Elena turned back holding her breath. Tseng Baum had his hand raised, his long arm up in the air, his expensive clock left exposed by the tensed shirtsleeve. He was not even looking at the vase, he still had his black eyes set on the screen of his mobile.

 _Does he even know what he's bidding for?_

"Thirty thousand!" the auctioneer himself seemed incredulous that such a shitty vase could have reached such a high bidding price, "We have thirty thousand for the Wutainese businessman in the last rows. Thirty thousand going once, thirty thousand going twice.."

 _Oh, to the hell with it. It's Sephiroth money after all. And it's for charity._

"Thirty five!" Elena shouted, caught by an explicable sense of competition.

"Ooh, thirty five! The blond businesswoman re-launches!"

At this, Tseng raised his head, and their gazes met.

Tseng looked at her for a long moment, and after that he indulged into a quick nod, meaning something like _I know who you are_.

 _Of_ course _he knows me. Crap._

For a second she hated vehemently both Sephiroth and Tifa and their being so damn prima donna – they were the ones to blame for this surreal situation. A situation she could not fully cope with even after all those years.

She had nothing against Tseng. In fact, she admired him. She thought he was one of the best managers around. She-

"Thirty five thousand going once, going twice.."

Elena felt for a moment her heart thumping too fast in her chest. She tried to nod back to him in acknowledgment, but before she could manage to get out her momentary paralysis, Tseng's phone rang, and he stood up and walked away while picking the call up.

 _I wonder who the hell is calling him this hour at night._ Elena checked her wristwatch – it was quarter to one. _It can't possibly be work-related, right? If it_ is _work related, he's even more workaholic than me..!_

"SOLD! To the blonde lady for thirty five thousand gils!"

A timid applause ended the auction round.

Elena found herself with thirty five thousand gils less, possessor of an atrocious vase, and overwhelmed by a strange sense of frustration.

* * *

Tifa was under the effects of the most dangerous type of hangover: not stunned enough to feel sick or just lay down and fall asleep, her mind was running free and restless, along with her heart racing for no apparent reason.

She was on the back sit of a taxi cab. Tseng was sitting not far beside her. It was almost two in the morning, yet he had his laptop opened on his lap; he was replying to an email. His suit still looked as if it had just been ironed and his long fingers were typing hell quickly on the keyboard. Sure enough, he was not missing a single letter.

"You could have stayed home if you had work to do, you know." Tifa told him, scooting just one bit nearer to him, trying to sneak a peek of the email he was writing. Her eyes got soon lost on the first lines full of thick small black words on the screen. "There was no need to come to _fetch_ me."

He didn't seem to care about the sudden closeness as he continued typing, not even turning to her.

"I had to make sure you didn't stumble out the club drunk in the arms of someone like Reno," was his explanation, given in the most neutral tone ever. "I told you already this is not the right moment for gossip. Hojo hates that kind of thing."

A pout appeared on Tifa's lips as soon as she realized he actually meant it.

"I'm not like that.." she let out a sigh, moving away from him, and resting her burning forehead on the fresh glass of the car window.

The only reply she received to this was the incessant tapping of his fingers on the keyboard. She kept looking at him, at his sharp profile. He still didn't turn to her.

 _I've been following his bio in the magazines for forever – you know, I just wanted to meet him._

The sexy figure of Jun Liu came back to her mind. Why was that still so difficult to digest? Maybe because she had always been convinced his only relationship going on was the one with his laptop - or the one with his briefcase.

"Where were you tonight?" Tifa asked him.

At this, Tseng shot her a quick glance with one eye, managing to keep typing even when he was looking elsewhere.

"Charity Gala. Representing you," was his telegraphic answer.

"You know, tonight there was a girl who wanted to meet you." Tifa threw the sentence there, quite confident it would stir a reaction.

It didn't. Typing, keyboard, finally a 'reply' hit. This gave her a spark of hope – but the very moment after Tseng opened another email, and started composing another reply.

"She was hot. She was a top model." Tifa didn't surrender. "Her name was Jun Liu," she added, feeling quite guilty for having thrown her business card in the trashcan.

"Mh."

This was all she could extract from Tseng.

Tifa stared at him in disbelief.

"I said she was hot," she insisted.

This finally made him divert his gaze from his laptop – just, it didn't happen for the reason she had expected.

"Are you drunk, Tifa?" he asked, scanning her with his stern pitch black eyes.

Tifa let out a chuckle.

"Why, now being drunk is mandatory to tell you a hot top model was interested into you? I mean, I'm just worrying for you."

Tseng pressed his hand on his forehead.

"You _are_ drunk." He concluded.

"What if I'm not drunk? What if this is just a normal conversation between sober people? How can you possibly be so totally uninterested when I tell you a hot top model was into you? Do you have a girlfriend already?" Tifa had moved her head from the glass and was now leaning slightly towards him, her hands tight on the seat.

As a final acknowledgement he was not going to get away from this so simply, Tsung slammed his laptop close and leaned towards her, too.

Having at least his full attention made Tifa feel as if she had partly reached her aim already.

"Tifa. How many cocktails did you have?"

"How can you be more interested in the number of cocktails I had rather than in what I just told you? You _do_ have a girlfriend then."

Tseng smirked and shook his head.

"For the love of God, Tifa. I do _not_ have a girlfriend. Working for you takes pretty much all of my time away, right in this moment," he gave in.

"Are you implying it's my fault if you don't have a girlfriend?" the question escaped her lips. She felt bad for asking the very second after - bad and unsettled.

"I did not say that," he looked at her a bit stunned "What's the problem with you tonight? You know what, I don't think that for us to discuss my – inexistent - love life is anywhere near professional, so I'd be glad if you just dropped the topic."

 _Professional, professional, blah blah blah._

"How come you always have your say in my love life then?" Tifa retorted childishly, feeling confident she had him cornered with that.

"That's not quite right. I don't have a say in your love life per se — all I have a say in, is you not having it disclosed on gossip magazines."

That was so true. She felt _so_ stupid.

She bit her lips, trying to sit as far from him as possible.

 _Maybe I_ am _drunk, after all. And I do have a problem. Like the movie with Sephiroth. Or life. Or stuff._

"As far as I'm concerned, as long as it doesn't become public domain, you may date and kiss and hit on whoever you like - and I'm not going to ask you anything about that."

Tseng re-opened his laptop, getting back to the emails and the quick typing, as if nothing had happened.

Fifa looked out of the window tiredly - the dashing neon lights of Midgar were blurring in her sight.

* * *

When the taxi cab reached his penthouse, Sephiroth wondered how the hell he had managed to resist until that late hour.

He felt nauseated by everything — the night, Reno, the two glasses of gin he had...

He paid the taxi driver, and then headed exhaustedly to the building's glass entrance door. In the elevator he pressed the 63rd floor button, and waited while staring at his reflection in the mirror wall.

 _That's because you have no interests at all. Apart from working out, admiring yourself in the mirror, and_ _sitting_ _on an imaginary throne with an imaginary crown on your head._

He could not even chuckle recalling that. Was it possible that a very remote part of his brain actually agreed with what Reno had said? Something was seriously wrong with his mood those days.

The elevator's metallic doors finally opened upon reaching floor 63rd, accompanied by a digital bip. Sephiroth walked to his door, inserted the keys, and nervously unlocked it.

The penthouse was silent and immersed in darkness. Outside the glass wall the city of Midgar was still lighted and alive instead, the little spotlights of the cars running into the highways cutting between the skyscrapers.

He turned the lights on, and immediately noticed it.

The shittiest vase he had ever seen stood in the center of his dear crystal table.

 _Now, where the hell_ _did_ _that come from?_

Sephiroth, still a bit startled, approached the table with a frown until he could see the horrible vase in all its glory: dusty, cracked, useless, limped, even remotely smelling of mold.

A yellow post-it note was glued to the table, inches from the vase. Sephiroth ripped it away from the glass and read it.

 _-You're such a good-hearted man, and this is the proof. Keep it safe, it's worth 35.000. XOXO, Lena-_

Sephiroth stared at the vase again. It sucked. It really did suck. But despite all, he found himself imagining his blonde manager saying that sentence aloud with her sarcastic voice, and for once in the evening he laughed heartily.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **1.** TNX dear Savannah for the editing :) **2.** I am aware every FFVII character would hate me for this fic. More of them are gonna be tortured in the next chapter - Scarlet and Rufus on the top of the list...and guess who's gonna star as the vampire, LOL. **3.** New cover art by WyssSandro **4.** Readers followers reviewers favouriters - whatever that is - aren't you great? TNX so much :) Hope I didn't disappoint you, let me know, drop me a line! I've tried to update more quickly as suggested.

 **Have a nice day & stay tuned,**

 **S.**


End file.
